Temptation
by highland-daughter
Summary: They both needed someone who understood. Someone who wouldn't just say time heals all wounds. They needed each other. Like the way one of them needed air. Like the way one of them needed blood. But it often takes a bit of time to see that need fulfilled.
1. Ch1 The Dance

_**Disclaimer:** All rights belong to L.J. Smith. I am merely borrowing a few things but I promise to give them back._

_**Warning:** This fic shall, at some point, contain SLASH!_

_**Rating:** T_

_**A/N:** So originally this story was going to be told in a bunch of one-shots but after much deliberation I decided to just put them all in one thing so they're easier to find and read. Enjoy._

_**oOoOoOo**_

Alaric walked around the garden, checking for signs of Stefan. He knew Elena was worried and had decided to see if her wayward vampire had gotten into a spot or two of trouble. Not surprisingly he didn't find Stefan. He had just strolled into an open area of the garden when he sensed he wasn't alone. "Either try and kill me or go away," he said, glancing over his shoulder at Damon who was standing a few feet away.

"I was looking for Stefan," Damon said, rolling his eyes in a way that Alaric had deemed the Damon-way. "Haven't seen him have you, Ric?"

"If I had I wouldn't be standing here talking to you," Alaric fired back, glaring at the vampire who had ruined his life. "I would have gone to Elena."

Damon let out a low sound. "I'm hurt," he said, walking forward. "He's my brother you know?"

"Yeah and you care so much."

"Actually I do," Damon said, shaking his head. "If he falls off the deep end there's a chance he'll expose us. I can't risk that. Bad enough Jonathan Gilbert has the Council at arms again."

Alaric gave a short nod. "What are you going to do about that by the way?"

Damon shrugged. "Haven't figured that out yet." He smiled slightly as music from the party drifted through the air. "Care to dance?"

"What?"

Alaric let out a sound of surprise, because he didn't squeak, it wasn't manly to squeak, as Damon caught his arms and spun them, easily settling their bodies into a dance. Alaric glared. "What the hell are you doing," he hissed as Damon easily led their dance. Anyone could come upon them. That included Jenna, who Alaric genuinely liked.

"Dancing," Damon said as though it should have been obvious.

Alaric rolled his eyes. "This is ridiculous," he said, trying to pull free. "Let go. Now."

"I don't really feel like it."

The music changed suddenly, going from the waltz to something slow and slightly romantic. Damon seemed to be affected by the change because he stepped closer, one arm wrapping around Alaric's shoulders while the other still held his hand. It was instinct that caused Alaric to put his free hand on Damon's waist. Nothing but instinct. The music continued and Alaric strained to hear the lyrics that seemed to have affected the psychopathic vampire. Though he caught a few words it wasn't enough to tell him what the song was or why it might have affected Damon so much.

Something in Alaric suddenly realized that for the wrong that Damon had done he had been doing it for the woman he loved. The woman who'd abandoned him. Alaric could relate to that sort of pain. He pulled Damon a little closer, wondering if the vampire would try and rip his throat out, and allowed his cheek to press against Damon's hair. It was dangerous, he knew it, but he was laced with vervain. Both on his skin and in his blood. So should Damon decide to try and kill him he was going to be in for a merry surprise.

Damon let out a low sound as he sniffed at Alaric's neck. "Vervain?"

"Didn't feel like ever becoming a vampire's snack," Alaric said, taking the lead away from Damon.

Damon smiled slightly as he let his head rest against Alaric's shoulder. He'd probably never admit it aloud but this felt nice.

"I suppose after this we go back to being…" Alaric stopped speaking, clearly trying to figure it out. "What are we anyways?"

"I think the term in uneasy allies."

Alaric nodded slightly. "Right," he said, even as the last few notes of music played. "Uneasy allies."

Damon hummed softly and had just started to let his eyes close when he heard it. A scream. And Stefan's hungry snarl. He jerked out of Alaric's arms. "It's Stefan," he said before taking off. He could hear Elena and Bonnie. This was not going to be good.

Alaric watched as Damon vanished in the blink of an eye. Not completely certain what had just happened between himself and the vampire.

_**oOoOoOo**_

_**A/N:** So there you go. I hope you like it. If you do, then please review. It's the little button right down there. Thanks._


	2. Ch2 Kiss With A Fist

_**A/N:**__ The next chapter. This one originally took a while to write but I was very satisfied with the way it turned out. Enjoy._

_**oOoOoOo**_

Alaric sat, grading papers, at the bar of the Grill. He was silently fuming. Most of the students had barely understood the assignment. The exception being Stefan but he'd sort of expected the vampire's paper to be well written. Elena's was acceptable though she had no doubt asked Stefan. He sighed and rubbed his eyes while reaching for his drink.

"You know, most people would say you're an alcoholic."

Alaric's hand tightened around his glass at the sound of Damon's voice. He looked to his left and frowned at the vampire who was sitting a few stools down from him. "Why is it whenever I want a peaceful evening of grading papers you show up," he mused aloud as Damon ordered a scotch. He watched as Damon sipped the amber liquid.

"You come to a bar," Damon said, looking over at him. "The only bar in town really, to grade papers and you expect it to be peaceful. Are you even from this planet? Do you even know how to have fun?"

"How about I dose you in Vervain, light your ass on fire and watch you run around like a chicken with its damn head cut off? That'd be fun right?"

Damon snorted. "Maybe once I tore your throat out for ruining my jacket."

Alaric rolled his eyes and looked back at the paper he was supposed to be grading as he took a long drink. A small shiver rolled down his spine and when he turned his head to find Damon sitting right next to him. "Christ," he hissed, nearly jumping off the stool. "Warn someone before you do something like that."

"Aww," Damon teased, grinning a bit. "Did I scare little Ricky?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Damon chuckled. "Not a good idea for you to be saying that," he said, smirking the entire time. "What with you being a teacher and all."

Alaric all but growled as he set his now empty glass on the bar, digging in his pocket and paying his bill. He gathered his papers. He heard Damon snicker. "Running off, Rick," the vampire asked, his smirk turning into a smile. "I didn't think you backed down from a challenge."

Turning to face the vampire Alaric decided to do something fairly risky. He would later blame it on the alcohol. He leaned down, getting right into Damon's face and sneered. "How's Katherine doing anyways," he asked, watching Damon's eyes fill with something that looked an awful lot like rage. "Oh, wait, that's right. She dumped your worthless ass."

With that he turned and stormed off. He walked towards the parking lot, fishing in his coat pocket for his car keys. He had just found them when he felt it. He started to spin around only to be grabbed by the throat and thrown against his car. The hand around his throat tightened a bit and he gasped, attempting to draw in a breath. A low snarl drew his attention to a very pissed off Damon.

"You think you're witty, Saltzman?" The vampire snarled his fangs very evident even in the shadows that Alaric hadn't noticed before. "Bringing up my heartache? How about we talk about Isobel, hmm? Feel like discussing your bitch of an ex-wife who left you to become a fucking blood sucker?"

Alaric growled, or rather tried to, as he managed to kick Damon in the shin. It wasn't a powerful kick or even well aimed, but it took the vampire by surprise enough that Alaric was able to shove him punch the asshole in the face. His hand hurt, a lot, but he had the satisfaction of hitting Damon Salvatore. Unfortunately that seemed to piss the vampire off even more because a fist connected with Alaric's ribs. It wasn't a strong enough hit to break bone but it still hurt like hell. That same fist then struck him across the face, splitting his lip and causing his nose to bleed. A low rumbled filled the air but Alaric ignored it.

In retaliation for being hit in the face, Alaric once more kicked Damon, this time catching the vampire in the knee. An angry hiss, much like a cat, erupted from the vampire's chest before Alaric was thrown, like a ragdoll, to the ground. Coughing a bit, mainly because he was finally able to breathe properly, Alaric rose up on his hands and knees. Not the best thing to do it turned out as Damon kicked him in the same ribs he'd previously punched.

A grunt of pain passed his lips as he toppled to ground, clutching his side and wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this mess. He had just rolled to his back when Damon pounced like a damn cat, hand fisting in his hair and yanking his head to the side. It had to have been some sort of reflex or vampire instinct because Damon knew full well that Alaric ingested Vervain daily but the vampire's fangs sank into his neck, or rather the spot where his neck sloped to meet his shoulder.

Alaric hissed in pain but thanked God when Damon drew back, groaning slightly. "Fucking Vervain," Damon hissed weakly, trying to move away but the strength went out of him and he collapsed on top of Alaric. "Fucking asshole."

"You're one to talk," Alaric fired back, rolling Damon off him and getting to his feet. "Fucking prick, you bit me!"

Damon weakly flipped him off and Alaric ground his teeth together. "I should leave your ass right there," he snapped, slowly picking up all the papers he'd dropped when Damon had attacked him. "Then call Sheriff Forbes. Bet she'd love to find her vampire hunting buddy doped up on Vervain."

Damon glared. "You wouldn't dare."

"Who's going to stop me? You?"

"Elena would kill you if you did something like that."

Alaric glared right back. It wasn't right of Damon to bring Elena into it. The girl, technically, was his stepdaughter and though he had only learned about that a few days ago he really didn't want to hurt her by taking away someone she cared about. "Fucking prick," he grumbled as he managed to hoist Damon up to his feet. "I'll drive you home."

The drive to the Boarding House was silent, save for Damon's occasional groan. As he pulled into the driveway he debated just pushing the vampire out of the car but decided against it. If Elena was here she'd flip. With a low grumble he parked the car and then proceeded to haul a still doped up Damon from it.

"Stupid vampire," he grumbled, not thinking about Damon's vampire hearing.

"Idiot human," Damon fired back and Alaric rolled his eyes as he somehow managed to knock on the door.

"Shut up or I'll toss you in the bushes."

"Go ahead and try it asshole."

Just as Alaric was giving serious consideration at throwing Damon head first into the nearest rosebush Stefan opened the door. His eyes went to Alaric first and then Damon. "What happened," he asked, reaching for his brother.

Alaric waited until Stefan had a firm grip on Damon before reaching up and pulling his blood stained shirt collar to the side. "He got fucking stupid and tried to turn me into a snack," he said as Stefan looked at the bite mark. Alaric was thankful he'd cleaned up his face a bit during the drive here. "Idiot needs to remain I drink Vervain."

"Fucking asshole," Damon growled, glaring as best he could. Elena's voice suddenly drifted over them.

"Stefan? Is everything okay…oh my God! Damon!"

Elena rushed forward, a hand delicately touching Damon's shoulder. Alaric expected the vampire to preen or play up the moment. But he didn't. Damon's eyes, those piercing haunted blue eyes, never looked anywhere but at Alaric's face.

"He's fine, Elena," Stefan said, giving Damon a stern look. "He ingested Vervain."

"Why the hell would you do that," Elena asked Damon, who was still looking at Alaric.

"Call it a moment of possessive recklessness."

Alaric frowned. What the hell was Damon talking about? Elena looked at him suddenly, clearly seeing the blood on his shirt. "Oh my God," she said, looking at Alaric's face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Elena," Alaric replied, stepping back a bit. "I've got to get going. Damon should be fine in an hour or so."

With that he turned and went to his car. As he drove home Damon's words kept repeating in his head. Possessive recklessness. What the hell did that mean? What Damon bit him to try and put him in his place or something? Shaking his head Alaric decided it didn't matter. The vampire hadn't wanted Elena to know about their little scrap. Made sense, because he didn't want her to know either.

As he pulled into his driveway he unconsciously reached up and touched the edges of the still bleeding bite. A small shiver wracked his body at the thought of Damon's fangs piercing his skin. There was an intimacy in the act that Alaric refused to look to closely at. Shaking his head he shoved all thoughts of Damon Salvatore from his mind. He still had papers to grade and he was fairly certain he had a bottle of scotch stashed in the house somewhere.

_**oOoOoOo**_

_**A/N:**__ And there you have it. I honestly can't see a romance between Damon and Alaric starting any other way than violently. It's in their nature. ^_^ Anywho, I hope you enjoyed and if you did, then please review._


	3. Ch3 SOS

_**A/N:**__ Here's chapter three. This took a while to write as my muses decided to abandon me for a while._

_**oOoOoOo**_

Damon sat in his bedroom, glass of scotch in one hand, and looked at his cell phone. He kept expecting it to buzz or ring. It had been a few days since Isobel had shown up in town. A few days of Alaric not speaking to him or calling to inquire about this or that. It didn't feel right. He'd grown accustom to hearing the teacher's voice at least twice a day. These last few days of silence was slowly beginning to bother him.

He reached out and picked the phone up, all ready to dial Alaric's number when he realized what he was doing. Growling faintly he dropped the phone as though it had burned him. What the hell was wrong with him? Since when did he need to hear someone's voice? Shaking his head he got to his feet and crossed the room to lean against the window, staring out into the dark night.

He downed the rest of his scotch and tightened his grip on the glass as he found himself once more wondering why Alaric hadn't called. Had he pushed too far with all the Isobel jokes? Had the teacher finally had enough of his coldness? It wasn't like he didn't understand Alaric's pain. Katherine had chosen to abandon him after all just as Isobel had abandoned Alaric. Women were cruel, heartless bitches. All of them. He and Alaric were better off without them. Besides they had each other.

At that particular unwanted thought the glass shattered. He blinked a few times and stared down at the shards. He hadn't even realized what he'd been doing. Just like the other night when he'd bitten Alaric. He growled a bit. That was a lie. He'd known full well what he was doing…sort of. The knowledge had been a bit fuzzy at the time but the instinct, the need, had been clear as daylight.

He could still remember telling Elena it had been possessive recklessness. And it had been. His instinct had demanded it and he'd done it. Knowing full well that Alaric was full of goddamn Vervain.

Rubbing his eyes Damon debated what to do. He couldn't keep waiting around for Alaric to call him. But he couldn't go looking for the man either. He didn't do that sort of thing. He didn't need people. Not like Stefan. He was above that. He frowned a bit. Was he going soft? First he'd allowed Elena through his defences and now it seemed that he was doing the same with Alaric.

Growling again he turned, crossing the room in the blink of an eye. He grabbed his jacket off the bed and left. He needed to get out. To clear his head of all this Alaric Saltzman business. Hunting was out of the question. He'd promised Elena not to hunt the people of Mystic Falls. But he could go to the Grill, find a girl and get laid. Yes, that definitely sounded like a plan.

_oOoOoOo_

Alaric sat at the bar of the Grill, nursing his fifth glass of vodka. Or was it his sixth? Seventh maybe? He sighed a little bit. He had to be fairly drunk if he couldn't remember how much he'd had to drink. He glanced at his cell phone, which he'd earlier laid on the bar. He kept debating if he should call Damon or not. While he'd been sober it had been a definite not. Now that he was beyond caring that not was becoming a maybe.

While he'd been sober he kept thinking that maybe he was annoying Damon. Calling him all the time just to have someone who'd listen and understand. It was like a girl crying to her best friend when the star quarter back dumped her. Shaking his head Alaric snatched his phone and shoved it into his coat pocket. He finished off his drink and paid his tab before staggering from the bar. Maybe he should have had the bartender call him a cab.

He had just started to turn, to go back inside to do just that when his legs decided they didn't want to work right. He started to go down but someone caught him. Someone who smelled an awful lot like scotch, copper and smoke. Which was funny because that's exactly what Damon smelled like. Alaric turned his head, to thank whoever just saved his ass, only to have the words stick in his throat.

"It's a Wednesday night," Damon said, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. "And you're falling down drunk. Not a good example you're setting for your students."

Alaric growled faintly. "I'd tell you to bite me but we both know you'd end up just as intoxicated as me."

Damon let out a low sound, something halfway between a chuckle and a snort, and easily slung Alaric's arm over his shoulders. "Come on, Mr Vampire Hunter." Damon couldn't help but taunt Alaric. "Let's get you home."

Alaric grunted and allowed Damon to lead him…well wherever it was Damon was leading him because he was pretty sure he'd parked in the direction opposite of the way they were going. He would have pointed that out but his booze addled mind seemed pretty content to just let Damon take the lead. He began humming softly, letting his head sort of half rest against Damon's shoulder as they kept walking.

To say Damon was surprised when Alaric all but leaned against his side would be a complete and utter understatement of the situation. He wasn't just surprised either. No. He was baffled. The few times he and Alaric had actually gotten along hadn't made him want to step back and reassess the situation. This though? This made him want to drag the teacher to the hospital and have his head examined to make certain he hadn't bonked it on anything recently.

_It's got to be the alcohol,_ Damon thought, reasoning that Alaric was just drunk. _He probably won't even remember this in the morning._

Once they reached his car, Damon quickly opened the passenger door and helped Alaric in, who proceeded to hiccup and make an odd noise in the back of his throat. "Please do not throw up in my car," Damon said as he quickly buckled Alaric in. "Cleaning puke out of nearly authentic 1967 upholstery is damn near impossible."

Alaric grunted and leaned back in the seat. His eyes closed, still humming whatever song he'd started humming earlier. The tune was familiar but Damon couldn't quite place what it was. And that was almost annoying as a drunk Alaric.

Damon shook his head and slammed the door shut. He hurried around the hood of his car and climbed in behind the wheel. He had just started the engine when his cell phone rang. "Oh this is not happening," he groaned, immediately recognizing the ring tone as Elena's. He quickly fished the phone from his pocket. "I'm busy."

"With what?" Elena sounded her usual perky self, meaning there was no immediate threat or need for him to jump just because she called.

"Nothing that concerns you, Elena." Damon winced a little bit. Had he just snapped at her? Again? He really couldn't seem to make up his mind if he liked or hated this girl.

Elena sighed and Damon held the phone between his shoulder and ear as he reached down and put the car in drive. "Look," she said in a bit of a worried tone now. "Matt just texted and said he saw Mr. Saltzman leaving the Grill and that he was pretty tipsy. I was wondering if you could go over there and make sure he doesn't try to drive home."

"And why should I help Mr Spike-Me-With-Vervain?"

Another sigh. "Damon, please? I'm really worried this thing with Isobel might have pushed him too far."

Damon glanced over at Alaric as he pulled out onto Main Street. He certainly didn't look pushed too far. If anything the man looked to be either asleep or passed out. At least he wasn't humming any more. "Elena you don't want to get involved in that sort of drama," he said as he took the phone in hand once more. He wasn't even sure why he had gotten involved in the first place. He should have just turned and walked away that night with Isobel. "Trust me."

"Damon."

The vampire really wanted to hit something when Elena said his name in that pouty '_do this for me' _voice. He was doomed every time she used it. And damn it all, it wasn't right or fair that she had that sort of power over him. "Look Rick is just fine," he said, hoping she'd drop the subject now.

"Well how do you know that?"

Or not.

"Because I do."

"Damon!"

Oh, gone was pouty and in its place Elena's version of tough. It would have been cute if Damon was not already irritated with Alaric and the damned situation he was in because of the man. "Fine," he growled as he turned off Main Street and headed for the Boarding House. "He's in the passenger seat of my car. Passed out."

"You actually went and found him?"

"No need to sound so shocked, Elena." Was it that hard for her to believe he could do something good? Well, he really hadn't, but still. "I was already at the Grill when Rick stumbled out. I'd take him home but as I've no idea where he lives and he's in no condition to invite me in he's going to spend the night at the Boarding House."

"At least he's okay," Elena said, sounding relieved. "Thank you, Damon."

"I didn't technically do anything for you." A soft snore drew Damon's gaze momentarily from the road and to his passenger. Alaric snored? Oh he was so using that in an insult or two in the near future. "I just didn't want to have to explain his being able to survive a car accident to the sheriff."

"You wouldn't have had to."

"You seem to forget that anything goes bump in this town and Sheriff Forbes comes running to me for help."

"Yeah and if she knew the truth she'd kill you."

Damon chuckled. "She could try." The driveway of the Boarding House came into view. "Bye Elena."

Without waiting for her response he hung up and shoved the phone into his pocket. He parked in his usual spot and killed the engine. Looking at Alaric he wondered if maybe Elena had been right. Maybe the whole thing with Isobel had driven Alaric a little bit too far. Shaking his head he got out of the car. Helping Alaric actually turned into carrying Alaric, which was a lot harder than it should have been given he wasn't feeding off of people.

Once inside he all but dropped Alaric on the couch, not surprised at all when the man bounced off and hit the floor, waking almost instantly. Alaric glared up at him.

"What the hell, Salvatore?"

Damon shrugged as he turned and walked across the room to get a glass of scotch. "You were at the Grill, wasted by the way, and I brought you to the Boarding House." He took a long drink of his scotch.

Alaric rubbed his eyes. His head was spinning. He really shouldn't have drank so much. "Why didn't you just take me home," he grumbled, slowly getting to his feet. He staggered a bit but didn't fall down.

"Because I have no idea where you live and, even if I did, I would have been forced to leave you on the doorstep."

Alaric started to nod his head but pain blossomed so suddenly that he groaned. He pressed his fingers against his temples and closed his eyes. When a hand touched his shoulder he jumped a bit, eyes flying open, he found himself staring into Damon's eyes. If he hadn't known any better he would have sworn that Damon looked concerned.

"You should probably sleep this off," the vampire said after a few moments of silence. "There's a guest room just down the hall."

Alaric gave a small nod, cringing when that shot pain through his skull. "Thanks."

Damon shrugged, stepping back and sipping his scotch. "Yeah, well, if I didn't help you I'd never hear the end of it from Elena."

_And there it is,_ Alaric thought as he turned and headed for the guest room, swaying a little bit as he walked. _He didn't help me because he wanted to. He just wants to look good for Elena._

Alaric wasn't sure why that hurt so much and he didn't want to examine the ache in his heart too much. Because he was fairly certain that if he did what he'd find would cause more pain than Isobel ever had.

_**oOoOoOo**_

_**A/N:**_ _And there's chapter three. Chapter four is in the works, though it may take some time as I'm attempting to update my other stories. Any who, I hope you enjoyed, and as always don't forget to review._


	4. Ch4 Beside You

_**A/N:**_ _Here is the next chapter guys, so sorry it took so long, my muses abandoned me for a little while. **hands cookies out** Oh, Damon may seem a bit out of character at one point, but I was trying to show that he isn't always the cocky, arrogant, self-assured cutie that we all became familiar with in season one._

_**oOoOoOo**_

Alaric was sleeping soundly.

And the fact that Damon knew that was a tad bit irritating. He growled a little bit as he stared down at Alaric. He shouldn't be in here. He shouldn't be watching as the human slept. Sure he might have mixed a sleeping pill or two in with the glass of water he'd gotten Alaric a few hours ago but that was hardly an excuse to watch the man sleep.

Standing next to the bed and staring down at the man couldn't possibly indicate that Damon was sane. But no one had accused Damon of being sane for a very long time so that didn't really matter. Nope. What mattered was the funny feeling in his chest that slowly grew the longer he stood there and just watched Alaric. He didn't like the feeling. It was foreign and if his heart had been able to beat it probably would have skipped. Not a good sign.

He tried to focus on Alaric instead of the feeling.

He noticed how Alaric breathed through his nose, unlike most humans who breathed through their mouths once asleep. He noticed how the man had tucked one arm beneath the pillow before dosing off and the other was bent above his head. His head rested against the pillow so his right cheek met the soft fabric. He noticed how Alaric's right leg was curled up a bit while the left remained straight, as though he had someone spooning behind him.

Damon's body gave an involuntary twitch and he shook his head to try and dislodge an unwanted thought. He started to step back, intending to leave the room, only to stop when Alaric let out a soft huff and snuggled against the pillow, his right leg curled up a bit more. He seemed to lose control of his body because one second he was standing beside the bed and the next he was laying on it. Curled up behind Alaric.

Damon wasn't sure what he was doing, or even why, but he wrapped an arm around Alaric, his hand settling on the man's chest, directly over the gently beating heart. The sound, that steady rhythm, made Damon press closer, leaving no space between their bodies. This was probably the single most insane thing he'd ever done. There was nothing preventing Stefan from walking through the door and seeing this. Or Alaric could wake up. Personally Damon wasn't sure which was worse. Stefan nagging him death. Alaric trying to stake him.

And despite all that, Damon couldn't find the will to move. To just get up and leave. He kept telling himself he'd move in another minute but his body didn't seem to get the message his brain was sending because he tipped his head forward so it was nestled in the slope of Alaric's neck. He told himself he'd stay just a little longer. When he heard Stefan come home he'd leave. His eyes closed and he listened to the gentle sound of Alaric breathing. The sound of his heart beating. It was like a lullaby and before Damon knew it he was asleep.

_oOoOoOo_

The distant sound of the front door opening woke Damon.

One minute he'd been dead to the world, pun very much intended, and the next he was wide awake. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in his bedroom. The second was that he wasn't alone.

Opening his eyes he found himself staring at the dull grey fabric of Alaric's t-shirt. He blinked a few times moving back a bit and trying to figure out if he'd moved in his sleep or something, only to be surprised when he was pulled back up against Alaric's body. His slightly foggy brain snapped to full alert as he glanced up at Alaric's face. Thankfully the man was still sleeping.

"_Damon?"_

Damon's gaze snapped to the door at the distant sound of his brother's voice. Stefan was still downstairs, and he wasn't alone. The familiar sound of Elena's high heels on the floor echoed to Damon's ears. Oh wouldn't this just be brilliant if both of them happened to find him in this situation. All cuddly with a man he professed to hate. He'd never hear the end of it. Letting out a low sound he started to pull away from Alaric only to growl softly when the hand that was resting between his shoulder blades tugged him back.

He was giving serious consideration to simply waking Alaric up when the man did something Damon didn't expect.

Alaric nuzzled the top of Damon's head, lips pressing a soft, sleepy kiss to the vampire's forehead.

Something in Damon snapped. A worn, frayed something finally broke.

_No, no, no, no,_ Damon silently shouted, unable to control his reaction. Using a combination of speed and strength, he tore himself out of Alaric's arms. He was across the room in the blink of an eye and had just grabbed the doorknob when he heard Elena walking towards the door. Without hesitating, or thinking, he was out the window, vanishing into the woods.

_oOoOoOo_

"Rick?" Elena knocked softly as she opened the door, merely peeking in.

Alaric grumbled a bit, lifting his head, which throbbed a bit, and glanced over his shoulder at Elena. "Huh?"

"I was just wondering if you were okay," she said softly, knowing he no doubt had a headache. "Do you need anything?"

He started to shake his head but winced and groaned as pain flared. Burying his head into the pillow he head Elena whisper that she'd get him some water before the door shut quietly behind her. Groaning a bit he forced his eyes open, staring at the empty space beside him. He'd been certain, when he'd half woken up earlier, that someone had been in the bed with him. He could remember wrapping his arms around that someone, and then that someone snuggling against him.

Had he just been dreaming? He buried his head further into the pillow. It sure hadn't felt like a dream. He reached out and touched the sheets. "Damon…" he whispered the name, wondering if he'd really seen the vampire sleeping next to him or if he'd been dreaming. Maybe his alcohol infused brain had been playing tricks on him. There was no rational reason that Damon would be in bed with him. None. At all.

A small smile graced his face. It had been a nice dream though.

_oOoOoOo_

Damon waited for several hours before returning to the house. He'd needed the time to get himself under control. It wouldn't do for anyone to see him like that. As he walked through the door he heard Stefan and Elena in the kitchen. Deciding he needed a drink before dealing with either of them, especially after earlier, he headed to the study. Once he had a glass of his favourite scotch in hand he strolled casually to the living room. Not surprised that Stefan was already there.

"Elena leave," he asked as he dropped onto the sofa.

"Yes." Stefan watched his brother down half the glass of liquor. "Little early isn't it?"

Damon snorted, finishing his drink. "Not as far as I'm concerned." He winced a bit at the burn of the scotch going down before he set the empty glass on the coffee table. "Rick still here?"

Stefan shook his head. "Elena took him to pick up his car."

"Good," Damon said, maintaining his air of _I don't freaking care_. "Didn't feel like having to drive Mr Drinks-A-Lot back to the Grill."

Stefan crossed his arms over his chest. "So why did you pick him up in the first place?"

"Elena asked."

"You realize I was with her when she called you, right?"

Shit. Damon glanced at Stefan. "Then maybe I want to keep you all guessing."

"Or maybe you're not really the asshole you want everyone to think you are."

Damon snorted again, picking up his empty glass. "Yes, I'm Mr Warm and Fuzzy. I care about stupid history teachers who try to drink themselves into an early grave because their wives would rather be a vampire then be with them."

"Admit it, Damon," Stefan said with a grin. "You care about, Alaric."

Stefan just moved his head in time before the glass shattered against the wall. Damon was suddenly in his face, growling like an angry bear. "I'm not sure what fantasy world you're living in, Stefan," Damon snarled, fangs extended and flashing. "But you need to wake the hell up and realize I don't give a damn about anyone but myself."

"Which is why you were sleeping next to him last night when I got home from Elena's."

Damon's fist connected with Stefan's jaw just as Elena walked in.

_**oOoOoOo**_

_**A/N:**__ And there it is. Hope you enjoyed and please don't forget to review. Everyone who reviews will get yummy triple chocolate chip cookies!_


	5. Ch5 Crash

_**A/N:**__ I now present, for your reading pleasure, chapter five! For those who reviewed **hands out cookies** Now, on with the story! Tally-ho! **rides off on cute, little donkey waving wooden sword heroically**_

_**oOoOoOo**_

"Want to explain what that was all about," Elena asked as handed a blood bag to Stefan. She had watched as Damon and Stefan had fought. She'd been stunned at the amount of violence Damon showed. It had been a long time since she'd seen him act that way. Truthfully it scared her.

"Having a little heart to heart." Stefan shrugged, wincing a bit as his shoulder protested the movement.

"That was a heart to heart?" Elena shook her head, glancing towards the doorway that Damon had disappeared through. "Looked more like a throw down. With you on the losing end."

"I don't want to fight him, Elena," Stefan explained, opening the blood bag and pouring it into a glass. "I want him to open up a bit."

"And letting him beat you up is the best way to do that?"

"That…That wasn't part of the original plan no."

Elena sat down on the coffee table, looking at her boyfriend seriously. "So what are you trying to get him to open up about?"

_oOoOoOo_

Damon was angry.

Scratch that. He was beyond angry. He was pissed. Royally so.

He'd torn out of the driveway of the boarding house and was heading out of town. The desire to tear someone apart was humming through his veins. Which, at one time, had been the norm for him. But after adopting the Stefan diet, he'd found it less important to make his point by actually killing someone. Threats usually worked. But right now, he really wanted to kill someone.

He stepped on the gas and got as far from Mystic Falls as quickly as he could. He had promised Elena not to kill the so called innocent people of the town. Didn't mean he couldn't go somewhere else and kill. And he really, really, needed to kill someone. Personally he wanted to go back and rip Stefan apart, just so he couldn't tell Elena why Damon had beaten the shit out of him.

Growly loudly, Damon found the first exit he could. Getting off the highway and hoping to find some backwater gas station. He wasn't picky. He'd killed a country hick just as fast as a high society girl. Didn't matter much to him. Killing was killing.

His hands tightened around the wheel. Damn Stefan for this. Damn him for seeing and then telling and just…just damn it all! Growling again, Damon spotted a gas station, something that looked like it should have been closed years ago, and pulled in. With any luck there'd be more than one attendant. He really was in a foul mood. He had just started to get out of the car when his cell phone went off. Snarling, whoever was calling him was interrupting very important business after all, he dug the phone out of his pocket. Not bothering to check the caller ID he answered it.

"WHAT?"

"Jesus…" the soft sound of Alaric's voice made Damon freeze. He hadn't expected this. He'd figured Alaric would go home, sleep off his hangover and then call. Maybe. "You don't have to shout. Kind of hurts, you know?"

"Your fault for getting drunk," Damon snapped, his hands beginning to itch with the need to tear into living flesh. "Is this important? I'm sort of in the middle of something."

There was a moment of silence, as though Alaric was picking his words carefully. "Are you…okay," the man asked finally and something in Damon twisted. He hadn't expected that. Not ever. "You sound a bit…I don't know…a bit odd."

"I freaking perky," Damon spat, watching as one of the gas attendants came walking out of the station. "Now if you don't mind I'm hanging up now."

"Damon, wait a second."

Frustrated growl. "What?"

"Last night…umm…thank you. For helping me out. I know I'm not one of your favourite people. But…yeah…thanks."

Damon sat, stunned for a moment before he remembered why he was where he was. His anger seemed to double as he thought about Alaric thanking him. The man would try to kill him if he every found out what Damon had done. "Whatever," he growled, the need to kill growing stronger. "I've got to go."

"Alright…" Alaric sounded like he was going to say something else but Damon quickly hung up the phone, tossing it on the passenger seat before getting out of his car. The gas attendant was eyeing the Camaro with wide eyes.

"Nice ride, man," the attendant said, looking briefly at Damon. "She a '70?"

Damon resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the idiot. Clearly he knew nothing about cars. Alaric had known the year of his prized possession instantly. He growled softly. He had to stop thinking about Alaric. "A '67," he said, moving towards the attendant, who was still gazing at the car.

"You restore her?"

Damon snorted at that. He'd bought the thing brand new. Right off the lot. Had surprised the dealer quite a bit when he walked in, paid cash and then left with it. "My grandfather left it to me," he lied easily, grinning a bit. This stupid human had no idea just how much pain he and his little buddy, the cashier, were in for.

_oOoOoOo_

Damon had just lit a match and dropped it, watching it ignite the gas trail, when his cell phone rang. Growling a bit he checked the caller ID. Stefan. Just what he wanted to deal with. "What do you want," he snapped as he got in his car and sped off. Watching in the rear view mirror and the gas station went up in flames. Moments later the gas pumps exploded.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

Stefan let out a frustrated sound. "Damon."

"Stefan," Damon mocked, turning onto the highway.

"Where are you, Damon?"

"On my way back to the house." Damon smirked a bit. He knew the fewer details he gave the more Stefan would focus on where he was and what he had done instead of the whole _'I saw you sleeping with Alaric'_ thing. Which he really didn't want to think about.

"Damon, seriously," Stefan huffed, and Damon's smirk grew. "Where are you?"

"I just told you, Stefan, I'm on my way home. Why? Do you need me to pick up some milk and eggs?"

Damon almost laughed at the way Stefan growled. Sometimes it was really fun to mess with his baby brother. Certainly helped make him feel better about the recent bullshit that was following him around. Maybe he'd make that his new thing. Bug Stefan when shit happened. Wait…he already bugged Stefan even when shit didn't happen so though it might make him feel better it would have little or no impact on Stefan. Damn, he thought he'd had a new stress relief program worked out.

"DAMON!"

Stefan's suddenly shout made Damon realize he'd been lost in thought and missed whatever his brother had just said.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I said when you get home we need to talk."

Damon snorted. Yeah sure. He knew what Stefan wanted to talk about. Having it thrown in his face this morning had been bad enough. No way in hell was he going to have a sit down with his baby brother and discuss how he felt when it came to a certain history teacher with dramatic wife issues. "Sorry, bad connection," he said before making static like noises and holding the phone away from his head. "Can't…did you say…losing…"

He hung up the phone and tossed it on the passenger seat. Today was not his freaking day.


	6. Ch6 Under My Skin

_**A/N:** **insert awesome theme music here** Finally an update! It's been forever since my plot bunnies allowed me to work on this story and I'm so glad that they've finally deemed it important again. I hope you guys all enjoy the new chapter and don't forget to review._

_**oOoOoOo**_

Alaric lay on his couch, staring up at the ceiling. He still wasn't sure why he'd called Damon earlier. It wasn't like he really had to thank the guy for helping him out or anything. After all Damon hadn't really done it out of the kindness of his heart or anything. Just to impress Elena. Sighing faintly, he bent an arm beneath his head and tried to force thoughts of Damon from his mind.

Easier said than done.

The longer he lay there, the more he thought about Damon.

It was like the vampire had somehow gotten under his skin or something.

He sat up quickly, grumbling under his breath as he swung his legs off the couch and stood. He had to find something to do, something to distract himself from his own thoughts. Spotting a large stack of essays on the kitchen counter he marched over, grabbing them and a red pen, deciding that reading through countless poorly written history essays would be a good way to forget about a certain blue eyed vampire.

Returning to the couch, he sat and got to work.

It didn't take long for him to realize his plan wasn't working.

With each essay he read, he found himself wondering what Damon had been doing during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Where had Damon been? America? Europe? Had he support the US or the Soviets? Had he even cared? Growling in as much disbelief as anger he threw the essays on the coffee table, twirling the pen in his fingers.

How in God's name was he supposed to get anything done if he was constantly thinking about Damon?

Standing once more, dropping the pen on top of the essays he left the living room, grabbing his coat as he stormed through the kitchen, and headed for the door. He needed to confront this Damon thing. If he didn't it would just keep festering until he was literally a wreck.

_oOoOoOo_

Alaric didn't even bother knocking when he got to the Boarding House. He just opened the door and marched in like he owned the place.

"DAMON!"

Walking into the den he expected to be greeted by the sight of the vampire with a glass of his favourite scotch in hand. Instead he was greeted by the sight of Stefan glaring at his cell phone. "Where's Damon," he asked, perhaps a bit more harshly than he should have but he couldn't find the will to really care. "I need to talk to him."

Stefan looked up at Alaric even as he tucked his cell phone into his pocket. "I've no idea where he is," the younger Salvatore said as he shook his head. "He just hung up on me."

Alaric frowned but before he could ask anything Stefan spoke.

"Hey…I uh…I think you and I should talk."

An eyebrow rose as Alaric studied Stefan, who suddenly seemed a bit nervous.

"About what?"

"You and Damon."

Now it was Alaric who was confused. What on earth did Stefan mean.

_oOoOoOo_

An hour later and Alaric was sitting at the bar in the Grill, a glass of scotch in his hand. He hadn't exactly left the Boarding House in the best of moods. And he certainly hadn't left without giving Stefan a piece of his mind. A rather nasty piece at that. It was one thing for him to think that Damon was somehow weaselling his way under his skin but it was another for Stefan to be bold enough to point it out.

Especially by telling Alaric that he and Damon had slept in the same bed.

Slamming back his drink Alaric tried to ignore the feeling creeping up his spine.

It hadn't been a dream.

It hadn't been some random figment of his hung over brain.

It had been real.

Just his fucking luck.

Holding his now empty glass up for the bartender to see, he tried to figure out how in God's name he was going to face Damon now, knowing the truth. He couldn't ignore it. Couldn't pretend it hadn't happened.

He was royal screwed.

_**oOoOoOo**_

_**Author: **Fin. Next chapter is being worked on and, plot bunnies willing, will be posted ASAP._


	7. Ch7 Whataya Want From Me

_**Author:** So umm…here's an update…though it seems kind of bad that my plot bunnies only returned to this story after I watched the finale of season 3…I'm not exactly thrilled with that. My inner fangirl is still freaking out (and not in a good way) over the ending of the finale even though my plot bunnies are now demanding that I write. So…enjoy and don't forget to review._

_**oOoOoOo**_

Damon walked into the _Grill_ in a bad mood.

He'd been dodging Stefan and Elena's calls all afternoon and even now he kept an eye out for them. He really didn't feel like talking to them or explaining his actions because he had no doubt that by now Stefan had told Elena about his stupid little sleepover with Alaric. Sometimes he wondered if his parents had dropped Stefan on his head as an infant.

He glanced around the _Grill_, making certain his brother and Elena were not there, before turning towards the bar. He desperately needed a drink.

He froze though when he saw Alaric, slumped against the bar, looking pissed and freaked out all at the same time. If he'd been thinking straight, Damon would have turned tail and gotten the hell out of there. But his concern for Alaric caused him to walk right over. Had Isabel returned? Had she threatened Alaric? If she had he was going to rip off her head and use it as a baseball.

"Hey, Ric," he spoke casually, not wanting the man to realize just how concerned he was. "Why so glum? Have another chat with the bitchy ex?"

Alaric stiffened and slowly turned his head, his gaze focusing instantly on Damon. To the vampire's surprise the man didn't glare. Didn't snark at him. Hell, didn't even rise to the bait of his remark concerning Isabel. What. The. Hell.

"Uh…Ric?" Damon frowned, trying to put on the air of nonchalant that he usually wore, but somehow it was evading him. "You alright there, buddy?"

"What do you want, Damon?"

The question, spoken in a tone Damon had never heard from Alaric before, caused his heart to skip. Or it would have if his heart actually, you know, beat.

"I…I'm not following…"

"Don't play dumb." Alaric stood unexpectedly though his gaze remained locked with Damon's. "Stefan told me about this morning."

Damon visibly stiffened and Alaric swore he could see fear in the vampire's crystal blue eyes. "Look," Damon said quickly, his voice sharp. "I don't know what Stefan told you but whatever it was is complete bullshit."

"Damon."

"I know you all think he's such a goody-goody but he's not above pitting people against me, Ric," Damon snapped as he stepped around Alaric and took a seat at the bar, waving his hand to get the bartender's attention. "So, unless what he said could even plausibly be truthful I don't want to hear it."

Alaric stared at Damon for a moment.

He didn't know what to believe.

He trusted Stefan. The younger Salvatore had never led Alaric to believe that he couldn't be trusted.

And yet what Damon was saying made a lot of sense too. He honestly didn't know Stefan a fraction as well as Damon did. Maybe Damon was right. Maybe Stefan was trying to turn him against Damon. God knew Damon didn't really have any friends beyond him and Elena, and there were days when he knew Elena wanted to strangle Damon.

With a soft sigh Alaric sat on the stool next to Damon just as the bartender reached them.

Once the drinks were ordered he took to studying Damon out of the corner of his eye.

The vampire appeared to be crouched in on himself. Shoulders slumped and head hung slightly. Like he was trying to avoid something. Or someone.

Maybe telling him about what Stefan said hadn't been a good idea.

But then again he needed to know where he stood with Damon.

Because he honestly didn't know half the time what the elder Salvatore expected from him.

_**oOoOoOo**_

_**Author:** And that's all for this chapter. I do have the next one in the works but like before I make no promises concerning updates._


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